


Masters 'n' Puppets

by Dragonlove



Category: Metallica
Genre: Dirty Talk, Light BDSM, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2019-05-17 05:44:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14826434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonlove/pseuds/Dragonlove
Summary: It was one of the very rare occasions on which James and Jason agreed, instantaneously. They would not shoot the video forUntil it sleepsinside a SM-club."Pity, though," Lars said as he walked back to his car together with James, "We'd have had the perfect place..."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Load Era  
> If you feel the incline to leave a feedback, please don't hesitate. A simple 'I like it' is very much appreciated. Sadly, I don't know any of the people in this story and I don't make any money with this.

It was one of the very rare occasions on which James and Jason agreed, instantaneously. They would not shoot the video for _Until it sleeps_ inside a SM-club.

"Pity, though," Lars said as he walked back to his car together with James, "We'd have had the perfect place..." 

James rolled his eyes. "Do I even want to know why you know a SM-club? Let alone the perfect one?"

Lars cackled. "Simple enough. Kirk and I co-own the place."

James stopped dead, hung his head with his hands on his hips and heaved a deep sigh. "Fuck," he exhaled. He raised his eyes heaven-wards and shook his head before looking back at the man he'd readily call his best friend. "You gotta be fucking kidding me."

Lars also shook his head with a broad grin on his face. "Not kidding, and ready to negotiate the fucking part."

"Fu... shit, man. Don't..." A bright pink flush rose from James' neck right up to the tips of his ears.

Lars chuckled softly and clasped his hand on the taller man's shoulder. "C'mon, James, I know you're curious. How about I show you the joint tonight? I promise you'll live." 

James had learned long ago to associate the mischievous gleam in the Dane's eyes with trouble, usually for other people. This time, he wasn't so sure he'd be on the safe side.  
"Thanks, but no thanks."

"Scared of what you might see? Or that you'll actually like it?"

"Nah, I just don't think I'd fit in."

Lars pointedly looked James over, from his biker boots, the skin tight black jeans, complete with his beloved bullet belt to the wife beater and the leather string with the wolf pendant around his neck.  
"I'll pick you up at nine."

 

When Lars pulled up in his Porsche 20 minutes after nine, James was sitting on his front steps, expecting him.  
As soon as he'd fastened the seat belt - always a good idea when Lars was driving - Lars dropped a writing map into his lap. 

"You need to sign that."

"What's this?"

"NDA."

James opened the map and groaned. "Oh for fuck's sake, Lars, seriously? _Masters 'n' puppets_?"

Lars cackled. "Neat, huh?"

James huffed and kept reading the non-disclosure agreement. "Makes sense, I guess," he murmured and signed the document, "As long as this does not mean I agree to anything else than to not talk about this."

Lars grinned and patted his knee. "Don't worry. Even if you wanted to participate, you wouldn't be allowed tonight." 

"Oh?"

"To participate you must be a member and you can only become a member if you're invited by another member and approved by the management. Then you have to prove you're free of STDs. Every member may invite a guest, but no more than six within a year and never more than two on the same night. The guest may observe, talk to people, but nothing more."

"Sounds like you put a lot of thought into this."

Lars nodded and shrugged. "Had to. People want to let loose when they visit the club. So we have to make sure they feel safe, that they, in fact, are safe when they come to us. If anything happens, we'll be out of business in a flash."

"How long have you been in the business by the way?"

Lars had to think about that. "Must be about two years now."

"Two fucking years! And you never breathed a word..."

Lars glanced at James' disbelieving face, then quickly focused on the road again. "Yeah, well, we didn't think you'd want to know. You've always been pretty va... let's say... _traditional_ when it came to sex. I've seen you getting a bit rough if a chick's into it, but we weren't sure if you'd like to explore further."

James didn't respond right away and when Lars glanced over again, he could see him chewing on his lower lip, a sure sign the wheels in his mind were in high gear.  
"So, you say Kirk and you co-own the place..." 

Lars nodded and bit back a grin. He'd been waiting for James to latch onto that.

"And all that groping and kissing... I guess that wasn't just for show, after all?"

In the close confinement of the sports-car, Lars' high-pitched laughter sounded like a burglar alert. Lars laughed hard, beating the steering-wheel with the palms of his hands. After a few seconds, James was afraid he'd lose control over the car.  
Finally, the Dane calmed down enough to wipe the tears from his eyes and focus on the road again. "No, dickhead," he answered, still grinning from ear to ear, "we've been fucking each other's brains out ever since the Roam-Tour, you've just been too daft - or too homophobic - to notice. Sure as hell came close enough to bust us a couple of times."

James ignored the insult, at least for the time being. "I've long suspected Kirk swings both ways, but I _know_ you're as much into tits and pussies as I am."

Lars shrugged, the shit-eating grin still firmly in place. "A good fuck's a good fuck. Why limit myself to only one half of the world's population?"

It seemed that James had no answer to that and he remained silent for the rest of the drive. 

About a dozen cars were already parked in the lot. A lot of them expensive ones, but also two or three middle-class, including one that had "family car" written all over it. 

Lars parked in the spot closest to the entrance, which was reserved for the management, and next to Kirk's car.  
"One more thing, before we get in there," he said as he shut off the engine, "whatever happens in there, stays in there, okay?"

"I signed the NDA, didn't I?"

"Ja, but that's only part of the deal. You see, people come to the club and enter a different world. We don't allow anything with piss or shit - this place is difficult enough to keep clean as it is. But some of the things people do are pretty bizarre, even by our standards. But that says nothing about what they are like the rest of the time. One of our habitués 's a top-notch manager. He comes here with his secretary. She keeps him on a leash, walks him around on his hands and knees and if he's been a good boy she fucks him with a strap-on. And the next day she brings him his coffee and answers his phone again like any other secretary. There might be some people who live this lifestyle 24/7, but for most of our guest, BDSM and Real Life are two completely separate realities. I just want you to keep that in mind. What Kirk and I do when we're here has no influence on the band."

"Says the man who wanted to shoot a video in the club," James deadpanned. 

"I mean it, James. If you think you can't keep these two things separated, if there's only the slightest chance that you'll use what you'll see tonight against Kirk when you're pissed at him, I'll drive you home now and we'll never talk of it again."

James studied Lars' serious face. "Why are you so worried about Kirk and not yourself?"

Lars grinned. "I can handle you, asshole. But Kirk still takes you seriously sometimes."

James snorted, but then gave an honest nod. "No worries, dickweed," he winked. 

"Well, then. Are you ready for a life changing experience?" Lars grinned.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You think you'd like that? Bending over for someone else to take you?" Lars purred behind him. "Submitting yourself to their pleasure? Kirk tells me he finds it very liberating."

Usually, James would have sworn that Lars wasn't able to grasp the concept of subtlety if it bit him in the ass.  
And yet, apart from the cars parked in front of it, it looked like any other warehouse in the neighbourhood. 

In a way, James was surprised. Of course, the understatement made sense, given the nature of the club, but still: both Kirk and Lars loved a bit of drama. Only as they stood right in front of the steel door, James saw the sign. Black letters on satin stainless steel that spelled out the club's name, along with the logo: two crossed sets of handcuffs, crowned by a studded collar.  
Next to it, there was a pin pad. Lars typed in four digits and the door unlocked with a click.  
"We change the code daily and e-mail it to the members," he explained before James even asked. 

As soon as they stepped through the door and through a curtain of heavy black velvet, all subtlety was gone.  
There were floor-to-ceiling photos of BDSM-models, both male and female, accompanied by a selection of whips, cuffs and paddles. The most remarkable thing for James was the tall blonde behind the reception desk. She was strikingly beautiful with big blue eyes, a wide mouth with full lips and curves in all the right places. She also looked tough as nails in her black leather corset and sleeve tattoos on both arms.

Lars stopped short. "Emily? What are you doing here?"

The blonde arched an eyebrow. "Vivian called in sick. And someone's got to be at the door..." she grinned, "in case somebody decides to bring a guest." She looked from Lars to James and back.

Lars took the hint and introduced them. "Emily manages the club for us," he added.

"And by managing he means I am held responsible for everything from the books to the hooks in the dungeon's walls..." she gave Lars an extra sweet smile that probably would have intimidated half of Wall Street. But the Dane simply grinned back at her.

Emily sighed and winked conspiratorially at James as she turned a clipboard towards him. "I need you to fill out this form, please," she said, while reaching into a box on the reception desk. From it she produced a broad, white wristband that had the word 'Guest' printed on it in bold letters. "You'll be required to wear this during your stay," she informed James as she fastened it around his right wrist, letting her long nails scrape over his pulse point, "I take it, Lars has told you the house rules?"

"He knows the basics. I'll explain the rest while giving him the tour."

Emily took the clipboard from James and stamped the field labelled 'Night 1'. "You know you're allowed two trial nights before you have to become a member, right?"

"I do, now," James answered and smiled at her.

Lars cleared his throat. "Careful, Het. She's gonna have you for breakfast," he stage-whispered.

Emily arched a perfect eyebrow. " _You_ 're breakfast. _He_ ... could be dessert." Again, she winked at James and he chuckled. 

"That sounds all very ...tempting. But if it's all the same to you, I think I'll stay off the menu just now."

Emily gave him a long look. "Pity," she said with a small smile.

"Busy night?" Lars asked, trying to gain back control over the conversation. 

"Getting busier by the minute," Emily grinned as the door opened and a couple in their early thirties entered the club.

Lars took that as his clue and, with a last grin at Emily, pulled James with him through the next velvet curtain.

The corridor behind the curtain looked like a cave. The rough brick walls were painted black, mounted with golden candleholders, with artificial flames that did little more than highlight the shadows. "Dressing room and shop down that way," Lars pointed right. "And this way to the action."

"You've got a shop?!"

Lars shrugged. "Why, yes. You can buy outfits and toys. Wanna look?" His hand already on the handle of yet another heavy steel door, the Dane hesitated and looked back towards the other end of the corridor.

"Nah. Please tell me you also have a bar." James nodded at his friend to open the door and Lars did it with a flourish.

"Course we do. Best whisky in town."

They stepped through the door and Lars made a wide sweeping motion like a 1950's show master. "May I present: _Masters 'n' Puppets_!"

James didn't know what exactly he'd been expecting, but in a way, this first impression was a bit anticlimactic. Even though the sexual tension was palpable, it looked like an ordinary night club, much tamer, in fact, than some of the strip clubs they'd been to.

Yeah, okay, there was a little less clothing, and what clothing there was, was a bit more black or red, more latex or leather than usual. 

And as he walked in a bit further, there was that chick, sporting painful looking nipple clamps and licking that other chick, which was wearing fishnets _almost_ from head to toe.  
James felt the heat rising in his cheeks and he hastily looked the other way, only to see a man strapped to a kind of upholstered horse, with one man hammering his ass while another was fucking his mouth.

"Oh, jeez..." James mumbled. 

Soooh... okay, maybe not an ordinary night club. 

"You think you'd like that? Bending over for someone else to take you?" Lars purred behind him. "Submitting yourself to their pleasure? Kirk tells me he finds it very liberating." 

An arm snaked around him, offering a glass of whisky. Grateful for something to hold onto, James curled his fingers around the cool glass, the ice rattling in his nervous hand. 

Lars stepped beside him, a knowing grin on his lips.  
"No, I bet that's not your poison. You're too much like me. You'd like to make 'em squirm underneath you, don't you? Make 'em beg for release, for your cock..."

"Lars, fuck..." James protested weakly, hating how much it sounded like a moan.

And then he saw Kirk, wearing nothing but a collar and - James swallowed - a cock ring. His cock was hard, his skin was glistening with some sort of ointment, his dark curls shining in the dim light. He walked - no, he _strutted_ \- towards them, giving James a coy look before lowering his eyes.  
A man in leather pants and black mesh-shirt followed Kirk close behind. When he'd reached them, Kirk dropped to his knees with feline grace at Lars feet, head bowed, back straight, his hands resting on his spread thighs. Lars fingers instantaneously threaded themselves into Kirk's hair, massaging his scalp.  
"Are you happy to see me, pet?" he purred.

Kirk looked up with a look so full of lust that James felt a pulling sensation in his groin. 

"Yes, master."

"Have you been a good little pet?" 

"Yes, master."

Lars turned towards James to explain: "Kirk's orgasms belong to me. He's not allowed to come without permission when I fuck him. He's not allowed to participate in anything without me present. He's not allowed to fuck anyone. If he wants to get fucked, he needs to ask for it. He can give hand jobs, anything beyond that, he needs my permission, too."  
He looked at the man behind Kirk. "Has he been behaving himself?"

"Oh, yes," the man answered with a leer.

"Glad to hear it. Maybe it's time to thank Marcus for looking after you in my absence, don't you think?" Lars' voice was stern, a little reproachful even, but James knew both men well enough to read the looks they exchanged.  
Lars was asking Kirk for his consent and Kirk was giving it by lowering his lashes the fraction of a millimetre. 

"Go on then," Lars coaxed, "don't use your hands, just your mouth."

James watched in awed fascination as Kirk grabbed the zip of the guy's pants between his teeth and lowered it ever so slowly. He caught himself thinking about what this mouth would feel like on his own dick. Quickly, he pushed that thought down. He'd never thought about a man in that way, and most certainly not of one of his band mates. 

Meanwhile, the guy had assisted Kirk in unbuttoning his fly and pulling his erection out. Kirk swallowed the huge cock without batting an eyelash, cool as a cucumber.

Bad choice of words, Hetfield. Really bad.

Trying to ignore the racing of his pulse, James meekly wondered if Lars had been right and he'd actually live through this night.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He didn't want to see Lars or Kirk or - worse - both right now. And chances were, Kirk was still in the recording booth, laying down some guitar track, which meant that Lars was probably behind the window with the sound engineer. Usually, he'd be there, too, but the thought of watching Kirk, his fingers dancing on the neck of his guitar, closing, moving up and down...

Against his own expectations, James had survived the night. Even though he'd needed a lot of the club's whisky and almost another half a bottle of Jägermeister when he got home in order to get rid of the image of Kirk sucking that guy's dick whenever he closed his eyes. 

The way those full lips stretched, his cheeks first hollowed and then bulged around the head of that cock... _fuck_... James suppressed a groan and shook his head to derail that train of thoughts. 

It wasn't a very smart movement since his head was still pounding from last night's drinking, but that wasn't the only reason why he almost got a heart attack when suddenly the kitchen door was thrown open so hard it bounced back from the wall.

"Jesus, fuck, Newsted!" James bellowed despite his headache, secretly glad for a victim to take his frustration out on. 

"Whoa, sorry, Het. No need to bite my head off! You're jumpier than a frog in a frying pan today," Jason said, looking more curious than sorry.

"Fuck you, Newkid," James retorted automatically. He pushed past Jason but only went a few steps down the hall before he stopped, unsure where to go. He didn't want to see Lars or Kirk or - worse - both right now. And chances were, Kirk was still in the recording booth, laying down some guitar track, which meant that Lars was probably behind the window with the sound engineer. Usually, he'd be there, too, but the thought of watching Kirk, his fingers dancing on the neck of his guitar, closing, moving up and down...

James growled at his one-tracked mind to shut up. He decided to get back and snap some more at Jason, which usually helped improving his mood. As he turned on his heels, he almost bumped into Kirk. 

In a desperate attempt to avoid body contact, James stumbled backwards, very nearly landing on his ass.

Kirk gave him a scrutinising look. "You okay?"

"Yeah, sure," James mumbled, looking anywhere but his band mate.

Kirk sighed. "Are _we_ okay?"

"Yea... Uhm, yeah," James pinched the bridge of his nose, then finally made eye-contact. "Actually... Can we talk?"

Kirk nodded. "Let's go to your office," he suggested. 

 

"Okay, shoot," Kirk said, dropping down on the ratty leather couch in James' office.

"Huh?"

"Come on, you wanted to talk. I bet you've got a heap of questions about yesterday night."

Of course, Kirk was right.  
Out of a bunch of questions that had piled up in his mind, James chose the one he thought was the least leading. "Who's Marcus?"

Kirk blinked in surprise. "Uhm, he's a friend of Lars and me. In fact, he's the one who trained Lars."

Now it was James' turn to be surprised. He coughed. "He trained _Lars_?!"

"He sure did. It needs a bit of training to become a good Dom."

"I've always thought he's naturally bossy," James put in and Kirk chuckled.

"True. But that's not all there is to it. A good Dom is fine-tuned to the needs of his sub. Some think it helps to submit to another master o know the other side of it."

"And that's what Lars did?"

"Yeah. Among other research, I guess. You know he likes to do things thoroughly."

James snorted at that understatement, then fell silent and picked at his threadbare jeans.

Kirk watched patiently, knowing the singer was working through his probably chaotic thoughts, and maybe also working up the courage to ask about what he really wanted to know. 

"So... how does this... dynamic between you and Lars work?" he finally asked, glancing at Kirk through sandy lashes, his head still bowed and his fingers still picking at his jeans. 

A flash of amusement at James' careful choice of words flickered across Kirk's face, without the blond noticing. 

"It's a game we like to play to relax. You go hunting, we go to that club. The 'dynamic' is quite simple. Lars gives the orders and I obey," Kirk grinned, "pretty much like around here."

Again, James snorted, then finally looked up to fully meet Kirk's eyes. "So, whenever you go there, you have to do as you're told?"

Kirk shook his head. "No, it's not about the place. Whenever I wear Lars' collar, I'm his sub, no matter where we are. At home, on tour..."

"Here?"

Kirk had the decency to blush at James' sharp question and remained silent.

"Fuck..." James breathed and rubbed a hand over his face.

"And you truly get something out of that?" 

Kirk chuckled. "I'd have thought you saw that yesterday. Yes, I get something out of that, a lot, in fact. But you see, I wouldn't submit to any random dominant. I trust Lars to take care of me and to respect my boundaries."

"I noticed him checking for you consent, before... before he..."

"Had me suck Marcus off? Yeah, very observant. See, that's what being a good Dom is about. He would never order me to do something I really don't want to. It may seem like it sometimes, and I admit he's pushed me a bit further out of my comfort zone a few times, but I've never had to use my last safe word."

"Okay, even I have heard about safe words, but I didn't know you use several ones."

"It makes sense to have different words for different situations. One if you just need a bit more time and you want to slow things down, one if you need to stop altogether."

"And you're sure he still remembers your last one?" James asked, only half-jokingly.

"Yeah, we check every time before we start playing."

James nodded. "Just out of curiosity, and just tell me to fuck off if you don't want to answer: What would you not do?"

Kirk thought about that for a moment, then shook his head. "Hard to tell, it all depends on the situation. I wouldn't let somebody I find repulsing touch me, I guess, but that's never happened. Lars is very careful who he lets come near me - no pun intended." 

James rolled his eyes, but grinned. 

"Now, can I ask _you_ something?"

The singer hesitated, but he knew it was only fair. "Sure."

"Did you like it?"

James blushed beet red and looked down again. By now, his fingers had succeeded in poking a hole into the fabric of his jeans right above his knee. He forced himself to lay his hands on his thighs and look back at his friend.

"Yeah. Lord help me, I did."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the last few days he'd spent his evenings - and long evenings at that - finding out about certain things he didn't know. Thanks to the world wide web he'd seen a lot of things he'd never imagined. Some things rather disturbing, others...not.

After his talk with Kirk, and especially after his confession at the end, James had half-expected Lars to tease him or to pester him to come along for his second trial night right away, but nothing of the sort happened. 

Business in HQ continued as usual, they were almost done with additional recordings and had already started to work on ideas for the art work of the album. James was glad to spend his days doing things he knew.

For the last few days he'd spent his evenings - and long evenings at that - finding out about certain things he didn't know. The internet was for porn, everyone knew that, and by now James had found out that there were literary tons of porn material about BDSM. Pics, movies, literature, chat rooms... It was strange how only a few years ago, this research would have taken him not only ages but more importantly to areas of town where he would rather not be caught unarmed. 

Thanks to the world wide web he'd seen a lot of things he'd never imagined. Some things rather disturbing, others...not. He hadn't bothered to count how often he'd jerked off to new, wild fantasies, inspired by his research as much as his most recent memories. 

 

 

It was almost a week later, and it was James who approached Lars. He waited until he caught him alone in the kitchen.  
"Are you going tonight?" he asked as casually as he could while his heart was beating only inches below his throat. 

Lars grabbed a coke lemon from the fridge and didn't try to hide his wide grin. "Yeah. Wanna come along again?"

James shrugged and nodded. "Yeah, been thinking about it..." he trailed off as one of the techs entered. 

Lars winked at him. "Cool. Same time, same place." And he sauntered off, whistling a Queen tune.

 

"I didn't show you the dungeons last time, did I?" Lars asked, gesturing towards the other end of the bar, where a stairway was leading down. 

James shook his head. "Somehow, you got distracted," he grinned.

Lars clicked his tongue and slipped a finger underneath Kirk's collar, tightening it a little bit. "Bad pet. You made me neglect my duties as a host," he rebuked him. 

"Sorry, master," Kirk's voice was bashful enough, but his eyes twinkled.

Lars sighed. He released the collar to grab Kirk's chin. "Go. Enjoy yourself, but not too much."

"Yes, master."

James followed Lars. He gestured towards a door next to the stairs that was labelled 'private'. "Where does that door lead?"

"Storerooms and offices. Oh, and the CCTV-room."

He laughed as James let out a surprised cough. "Yeah, we could probably make a fortune if we released the stuff on film. But I solemnly swear it's just for security. As you will have noticed, we've got a lot of dark corners, and downstairs there's also the private rooms I'll show you later, so we've got to make sure there's nothing illegal going on."

They had reached the end of the stairs and James immediately noticed the differences. The upstairs interior was lushly elegant (and yet easy to clean, as Lars had pointed out), with chandeliers and faux leather upholstery (again, for hygiene factors), down here it was darker, furniture was sparse and mostly made of stainless steel it seemed. 

They passed a group that was watching a man tying up his sub with a series of the most intricate knots and crisscrossing ropes. 

Lars also stopped to admire the handiwork, but James soon lost interest. This kind of advanced bondage reminded him too much of fancywork, about as arousing as origami or hardcore knitting. 

A bit further down there was a podium with a St. Andrew's cross on it. A red-headed girl was tied to the cross, facing it. She was a bit skinny for James' liking, but maybe the muscle-packed man spanking her over-emphasised the effect of her petite built. 

He tentatively approached them. The least he wanted was to give the massive Dom the impression of sneaking up on him, so he took care to move within an angle of his sight. 

The guy with the shaved head acknowledged his presence with a friendly nod, beckoning him closer, while he continued to spank the red-head.

James stopped a step short of the man, close enough to see the chick was not only bound, but also gagged. 

She recognised him the same moment he recognised her, and her big eyes became even wider, while her surprised gasp was muffled by the ball-gag.

Big Guy seemed amused. "Know each other, do you?" 

James had no idea how much the guy knew about the woman and given her current bound and gagged state, he had no way of finding out. So, he opted for the non-committal truth.

"We've met," James answered carefully.

The guy's eyes flashed, and he grabbed a fistful of fiery hair. "You've met, eh?" he hissed.

James could hear her scream of protest, muffled as it was. He looked over his shoulder for Lars to give him some guidance, but obviously he was still busy enjoying himself elsewhere.

The Dom pulled his belt from its loops and folded it in half.

James raised a hand in a calming gesture.  
"We're in the same line of business. Take it easy, buddy," he said.

Big Guy raised his brows at James. Then he seemed to notice the "guest"-labelled wristband. "You're new to this, aren't you?" he asked, and James nodded.

An amused smile flickered over the other man's face and he winked at James. "Watch and learn."

The bald Dom swung the belt without hitting anything, as if to test the movement. The thick leather cut the air with a low singing noise, which seemed enough to make the red-head tremble. Whether from nerves or anticipation, James wasn't sure.

Now Big Guy swung the belt against his own thigh a few times, before he finally changed his target and hit the most rounded part of the girl's ass. 

She yelped and flinched but didn't seem to be in pain as she immediately relaxed against the cross again.   
Another hit, this time to the other cheek. The skin, already pink from the previous spanking, darkened to a bright shade of red. 

Without stopping his action, Big Guy turned to James with a grin. "She's a pain slut, you see," he said conversationally, now cracking the leather against the backside of her thighs, "aren't you, slut? Come on, stick your ass out. Let him see how wet you are."

With her face almost the same colour as her hair, she obeyed, and her Dom reached between her legs without any ado.  
"See?" he wiggled two glistening fingers and James could feel his own pants getting tight and a fierce blush heating up his own face. 

"She gets so turned on, she can cum from a spanking," the Dom slapped her ass with the flat of his hand and the red-head's eyes rolled back, "or a good whipping..." crack! went the belt against already reddened skin. "And then when I fuck her..." he let the leather trail over her legs and up the curve of her ass in a surprisingly gentle caress, "she keeps on cumming until she passes out, don't you, slut?"

She whimpered behind her gag and pressed her body back into his caress as much as her bounds allowed.

James swallowed hard and cleared his dry throat. "But she can't use her safeword when she's gagged like this. How do you know it isn't too much?" he asked.

Big Guy gave James a look of approval, as if he had just met his personal requirements. He nodded.

"Good question. We've agreed on some simple signals. She sticks out her forefinger to ask for permission to come, two fingers for a break, two fingers and her thumb to stop everything at once."  
The leather cracked against her flesh again. 

"And in case I want to tie her hands so that she cannot use her fingers, we also have a humming-signal."

Another crack and another whimpered moan. "But so far, she's taken everything I dished out like the good little whore she is, haven't you, slut?"

The girl nodded and pressed back against him, wiggling her ass slightly as if asking to be hit again. Her wish was instantly granted. Then Big Guy grabbed her by her hair and tilted her head back.  
"You know what to do if you want to get fucked," he purred.

It seemed the girl tried to speak around the ball gag, but of course failed miserably. He tugged at her hair again. "I can't understand a single word," he grinned.

Again, she tried to speak, the look in her eyes half pleading, half furious.

The massive Dom laughed. "Aw, sorry. My bad." He unfastened the gag, holding her chin in a gentle and yet firm grip. "You were saying?"

For a moment, her eyes flickered towards James, before locking on those of her Dom. "Please, master... may I please have your cock? Please, fuck me, master," she begged.

Big Guy entered her with one smooth and deep thrust, pressing her tiny frame against the rough wood of the cross with his muscle-packed body. 

James suppressed a groan and averted his eyes. He remembered feeling relieved when Lars told him guests were not allowed to participate. Now, he was certain that rule was meant as a torture to make desperate guests join the club sooner. 

He had the awful feeling he would cum in his pants like a teenager and consequently die of embarrassment before the end of the night, unless... 

He needed to find Lars.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "And now I want you to strip. Slowly."

"What's it gonna be?" the bartender asked.

"Whisky. Lots of soda," James ordered. He needed to keep a clear head for this. He _wanted_ to keep a clear head for this. And yet he also desperately needed some liquid courage.

He gingerly sat on one of the bar stools. His pants were still too tight for comfort, but maybe that would help him to not let that _forward_ part of his anatomy make a decision for him. 

He took a small sip of his drink and tried to cool down. 

_Damn, that scene had been hot as hell._ But if he was perfectly honest with himself - and that was what the whisky was for - it wasn't what turned him on the most. 

He thought back to his first night in the club. The look in Kirk's eyes. The devotion, the hunger. He wanted that for himself. And again, if was honest, really honest, he wanted to _feel_ that himself. He sat his drink down and went in search for Lars.

 

 

"No." Lars was adamant. "Those are the club's rules and they apply to everyone. That's what rules are for, as you very well know."

"Kirk said it's not about the place..." He left the sentence hanging and sure enough, it caught Lars' attention.

"Go on."

"If we took this somewhere else, HQ for instance, the club's rules wouldn't apply. What I want to know is, if Kirk agrees to sub for me, would you be willing to share?"

Lars pretended to think about it, even though it took all of his self-control to not laugh or cheer. Their plan couldn't have worked better.

"Fine. I'll let you have your way with Kirky. But not tonight and only on one condition."

James raised his eyebrows and Lars licked his lips. _Oh, this was going to be so much fun._ "You'll let me have my way with you first. For one hour you'll do whatever I ask of you. And just to be clear: I never have sex with a sub I haven't played with before," he waited for James' reaction and sure enough, there was a quick disappointed twitch of his lips, almost unnoticeable underneath his whiskers. "But we've been playing for almost a week now, so... _whatever_ I ask of you."  
Of course he'd let him make a list of things he wouldn't do under any circumstances like he himself and Kirk had done, but that information could wait for a bit.

James' lips twitched with the beginning of a smile. He'd expected this demand to the point where he would have been disappointed if it hadn't been made. No need to tell Lars that truth, of course. "Fuck, you really are a fucking perv, aren't you?" His eyes twinkling with amusement.

Lars grinned. "Only trying to help you find out how much of a perv you are, buddy."

James eyed the smaller man for a few seconds, realising his breath was already getting laboured, then inclined his head.

"All right. On one condition," a lightning fast grin flashing across his features as he used Lars' own words. 

Lars' answering smile was just as quick, before he mimicked James in raising his eyebrows. 

"Nothing concerning the band."

For a moment, Lars was rendered speechless, a rare enough event. Then he burst out laughing. "Now, there's a thought," he cackled. Then he shook his head. "No worries, Het. It'll be strictly sexual." 

"And this'll stay between the three of us."

"That's two conditions, but okay. Let's go."

 

 

Back at HQ, Lars led the way to his office. James followed, with his heart hammering in his chest and his knees weaker than he cared to admit. 

He knew he wanted this, probably had been wanting this for longer than he realised himself, but he wasn't so sure he had the nerves to go through with it. 

Lars sat behind his desk and put his feet up, leaving James standing at the side of his desk like a penitent schoolboy. 

"Any second thoughts?" 

For a moment, James hesitated, but then he shook his head. They looked into each other's eyes and Lars nodded.

He took his feet off the desk. "Now, for the next hour, you will call me 'Master' or 'sir', the choice is up to you. You will not speak unless you're spoken to or you wish to safeword. Do you have a safe word?"

James slowly shook his head, his eyes never leaving those of his friend, who suddenly seemed to wear an air of authority like an emperor's cloak.  
Lars gave a thin smile. "I can't hear you."

James swallowed, cleared his throat, swallowed again. "No, I don't have a safe word... sir."  
It felt strange to address Lars like that, but he'd agreed to follow his rules and he wasn't going to back out now, even though he could never bring himself to call anyone 'master'.

"Then I suggest you think of one. Take something you can easily remember, something you won't accidentally say in the heat of the moment, something I won't misunderstand."

When James hesitated, Lars continued: "Many people go for a colour code: yellow when you need a break or slow down, red when you need to stop altogether, no questions asked. You think that could work?"

"Yes, sir, I think it would." There, not so strange to call him 'sir' this time. 

Lars nodded. "Good. Like I said, the only reason for you to talk is to answer me, to safeword or to ask permission to cum." 

James remembered just in time, he wasn't supposed to say anything now, but the look in his eyes said it all and Lars could hardly hold back his gleeful grin.  
"Yes, pet, you're not allowed to cum without permission." He waited until that information got processed, a quick succession of emotions flickering across James' face. The one that remained looked a lot like hunger. 

 

"And now I want you to strip. Slowly."


	6. Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James bit his bottom lip. One of his ex-girlfriends had liked to be bound to the bed during sex and he'd humoured her, even when he preferred it when she could use her hands to scratch down his back as he'd fuck her. He'd never allowed anyone to tie him down, though.

It took James forever to unbutton his shirt. Not because he wanted to tease Lars, which he did, but because his fingers were trembling more than he wanted to let on. Finally, he threw the shirt aside and reached for the belt buckle.

"Stop." Lars rose from his chair and stepped up to him. "Hands at your side seams."

James let go of the buckle. Lars let his fingernails scrape over the barely there treasure trail until he reached the belt buckle and deftly unfastened it, pulling the belt from its loops. "Might come in handy later," he smirked and gestured for James to continue as he sat down again.

Boots and socks went and then James pushed his pants down together with his briefs, kicking everything to the other side of the desk.

For a moment he was uncertain what was expected of him next. But then he thought back to his first night and the way Kirk had acted. He knelt down.  
He kept his head bowed so he couldn't see how Lars' eyebrows shot up in surprise and the Dane ran the tip of his tongue over suddenly dry lips.

"My, my," Lars whispered, standing up to check James' posture, "seems you're a natural. Knees a little further apart. That's it. Beautiful." Slowly, he walked around James, ghosting his hand over the singer's hair, his neck and shoulders. Goosebumps erupted on the pale skin, but James didn't move a muscle. "Beautiful," Lars repeated softly. "Have you ever had anything up your ass? Finger? Toy?"

"No."

Lars grabbed a fistful of short blonde curls and yanked James' head back until the singer looked up at him, anger and something even more carnal in his crystal blue eyes, his lips parted from an involuntary gasp.

"What was that?"

It was harder to swallow with his head bent back like that, but James did, with Lars' eyes glued to his Adam's apple. The tip of his tongue darted out to lick at his lips. "No, sir," even his voice sounded raspier now.

For a moment, Lars regretted he hadn't demanded more than an hour with James. He'd been afraid that he'd demand too much of James too soon. He'd never expected him to submit so willingly. Now Lars was determined to make sure that this would be an hour they both wouldn't forget.

"Hmm. Then we're going to start easy on you..." Lars opened a drawer full of various toys. He rummaged around and came up with a silver butt plug.

Again, James licked at his dry lips. He didn't know if it was excitement or fear that made his heart beat that fast and that close to his throat.

The plug didn't look too threatening, hardly wider than his index finger but shorter. And still... The thought of something entering instead of leaving his body through this opening was making him nervous.

In the meantime, Lars had also produced a bottle of lube. He set it next to the butt plug on the desk and let his hungry eyes roam over James' body. While his own cock was almost painfully hard, the taller man's nerves still prevented his cock from growing to its full size.

Lars smiled to himself. Oh, he'd go easy on him. He'd drag out the built-up for as long as he could, until he'd have the Mighty Het begging him for his release.

He ran his hand over James' broad chest, pinching a nipple and enjoying the flinch and the gasp that caused.

"Stand up."

He let his hand wander down and towards James' back and further down until he could squeeze the tight ass that had been taunting him for years now.

"Bend over the desk," he murmured.

For a split-second, James hesitated. But then he audibly exhaled and did as he was told, stretching his arms so he could grab the far edge of the desk and resting his cheek on the soft leather of the desk pad.

Lars took a long moment to admire the display before him. He could see James had been working out in preparation for the video shoots and the upcoming tour. Lean muscles rippling and stretching underneath pale skin, covered by a light sheen of sweat... Lars licked his lips and ran a hand down James' flank as if he was trying to calm down a nervous animal. Which, of course, in a way he was. He grabbed the lube.

James forced himself to breathe evenly through his nose, focussing on not tensing up, willing his body to relax. Still, he couldn't help flinching at the first contact. It didn't feel as big as he'd thought, though. He'd expected to feel more of a stretch, instead the moment of being entered was longer than he'd thought. It felt strange, but not overly unpleasant, James decided. The plug, despite the stainless steel, wasn't even cold.  
James gasped in surprise as he realised what he felt was not the butt-plug, but Lars' probing finger.

"Shhhht, pet, you're doing great," Lars whispered, stroking his flank with one hand while starting to gently move his finger.

Despite his efforts, James had held his breath and as he now gulped for air, the sound that escaped him was somewhere between a groan and a sob.

Lars' free hand moved from his flank to his back and rubbed up his spine, chasing the shiver that ran through his body.

He gently pulled out his finger, reached for the lube again and slowly pushed two fingers into James.

James groaned, and his fingers tightened around the edge of the desk, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Lars slowly pushed in and out a few times, then stopped moving, his fingers buried deep.

James' heavy breathing hitched, and he tensed up again, waiting for Lars' next move that didn't come.

Instead, the Dane ran his free hand up James spine again, rubbing soothing patterns into straining muscles.

After a few seconds, James had become used to the invasion and he realised he wanted more, so much more. He feverishly wondered how he could get what he wanted when he wasn't allowed to just ask for it. Then he remembered the red-head and her Dom.  
Slowly, he pushed back against Lars fingers, taking them as deep as he could.

Lars chuckled softly. "Greedy, aren't you, pet? Just look at you, fucking yourself on my fingers."

He waited for three, four strokes until he curled his fingers, searching, finding...

"FUCK!!!"

Lars grinned, but at the same time gave James' ass a hard smack with his left hand. He knew he was stronger than he looked, but he also knew James could take it. They'd brawled often enough in the last decade and a half, even if physical fights had become less in recent years.

"I don't remember giving you permission to speak," he said evenly, digging the fingers of his left into the bright red imprint he'd left on James' pale skin, while curling the fingers of his right again.

This time, James let out a deep, wordless groan and Lars didn't miss the goosebumps that erupted underneath the sheen of sweat.

"I think...," Lars reluctantly stopped kneading James' ass to rummage through the drawer again, "I think you can take a bigger one... yeah, this'll be good."

He produced a slightly bigger butt plug and held it up, so James could see. He grinned as the blonde's eyes got wider and his look doubtful. Slowly, he pulled his fingers out, dragging them across his sweet spot one last time, making James groan again.

  
"Just remember your safe-words," he murmured as he squeezed some lube onto the plug. He aligned the toy, but concentrated his attention on James' face as he slowly pushed it in, ready to stop at the slightest sign of discomfort. He felt confident that he knew the stubborn singer well enough to read his features, even if he were to proud to use his safeword.  
All that happened was a slight furrowing of his brows as the widest part of the plug passed the tight rings of muscle and a little moan as it slid all the way in.

"Well done, pet. Now, get on your knees again."

He patiently waited until James had found his position. While his new sub shifted a little to adjust to the plug, Lars felt for the belt he had placed on the desk.

"Present your wrists," he commanded.

Unexperienced as he was, James managed to move rather gracefully. Lars gave a satisfied nod, before he made some gentle corrections to the way James held his arms and hands. He ran a fingertip along James' cheek, smoothing down his whiskers. "You're doing really well, pet," he praised softly. "Now I'm going to tie your hands." He wrapped James' own belt around his wrists and tightened it.

James bit his bottom lip. One of his ex-girlfriends had liked to be bound to the bed during sex and he'd humoured her, even though he preferred it when she could use her hands to scratch down his back as he'd fuck her. He'd never allowed anyone to tie him down, though. Much to his surprise he felt a familiar pulling sensation in his groin as the sturdy leather tightened around his skin.

Lars raked his fingernails through the sparse hair on James' chest and pinched his nipples. James flinched and couldn't suppress a moan. "You're beautiful like this, pet," Lars whispered, his eyes shining. He caressed James' face again, before reaching for his own waistband. "Let's see what you look like with your mouth around my cock."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Why do you think your gag reflex doesn't kick in when you're eating?"
> 
> He looked back into James' eyes just in time to catch the _duh_ -expression in them. "Because I swallow... _sir _."__
> 
>  
> 
> __  
> Lars grinned and didn't even try to suppress the impulse to pat James' head like he was a dog which had learned a new trick. The look _that_ earned him was priceless  
> 

It was one of the sloppiest blow-jobs Lars had ever received.

James' technique was all but non-existent and his gag reflex was making it even worse. Lars sighed and pulled out. "You need to concentrate, pet. Take it a bit slower. Think about how you like it."

He caressed James' face, then gently cupped his cheek and guided his dick back into his mouth.

Following his advice, James moved slower this time, paying more attention to what he could do with his lips and tongue. 

For a moment, he wondered what he would do if Lars would actually cum in his mouth, but the answer was simple enough: He would do whatever he was told. After all, that was the deal he'd agreed to, right? 

Lars let out a low, appreciating moan, then pulled out again. "Much better. And now try not to gag."

James looked up at him and Lars bit back another lustful groan at the look in those baby blue eyes. "I don't know how, sir."

Tearing his own eyes away from those of his eager pupil, Lars traced James' jawline with the back of his finger, giving himself a moment to calm his heartbeat.  
"Why do you think your gag reflex doesn't kick in when you're eating?"

He looked back into James' eyes just in time to catch the _duh_ -expression in them. "Because I swallow... _sir _."__

Lars grinned and didn't even try to suppress the impulse to pat James' head like he was a dog which had learned a new trick. The look _that_ earned him was priceless. 

____

__

"There you go. Next time you feel you need to gag, swallow," his voice was soft, his tone gentle. But then he got hold of James' jaw in a steel grip as he hissed: "And you will feel the need to gag, because now", he grabbed his own dick and rubbed it over James' mouth, coating his lips and facial hair with pre-come, "I'm going to seriously use your mouth." He slapped his cock against James' cheek for emphasis, revelling in the moment when the singer blinked his eyes shut in surprise, his pupils even more dilated as the eyes opened again. "I'm going to fuck your throat and you won't be able to use your safe-word," his voice turned gentle again as he continued. "So, if it gets too much, I want you to shake your head as hard as you can and go _uh-huh, uh-huh_. Can you do that for me?" 

James nodded. "Yes, sir, I can do that." 

__

Lars' hand slipped to the back of James' head and down to his neck where he got a firm grip. "Now, open up wide," he said with a small smile that promised trouble. He pinched James' nose closed and when the singer opened his mouth in a reflex action, he pushed his dick past his lips and pulled James closer by his nose. 

When the murderous look in the blond's eyes gave way to mild panic, he released his nose, only to shove his cock all the way into the other's throat. 

Of course, James gagged worse than ever, tears sprang into his eyes and the muscles in his shoulders and arms strained in the futile attempt to free his hands and fight off the rough attack. 

The Dane's grip on his neck was relentless and pushed James' face against his groin. 

James choked and spluttered, tears slowly trickled down his cheeks, while a stringy mixture of saliva and pre-come was already dripping down his chin. It was a pity James had put "No make-up / drag" on his list of forbidden things, because Lars loved to watch how the kohl around Kirk's eyes would smudge during a rough blowjob like this. 

Lars managed to push a little deeper and from James' throat came a series of those delicious wet choking noises, that Lars loved to hear when Kirk made them. Coming from James, they were the sexiest thing he could think of. The best part, though, the best part was that the blond was by now sporting a raging hard-on. 

After a minute or two they'd established a rhythm that allowed James to take the occasional deep breath through his nose before Lars pushed in deep again. 

"You like that, huh, pet?" Lars panted. "You like it when I fuck your throat. You want to be used like this." 

James was glad he couldn't answer, because Lars was absolutely right. 

There was that voice in his head that told him this was wrong and disgusting and a sin on top and if his father was still alive and seeing his son on his knees sucking another man's cock, he'd die of the shame, and if his brother would see him, or worst, if any of the _fans_ would see him, _the Mighty Het_ , like this... and James told that voice to shut the fuck up. Because right here and now, on his knees, with his hands bound, with Lars' cock down his throat and a plug up his ass, he felt safe.  
He felt free. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lars' gaze fell onto the large clock that was mounted on the wall, right above the door. It had been a gift from the rest of the band, since he was infamous for being late on every possible and even impossible occasion. Not that it had made any difference. He needed a moment to realise the meaning of what he saw. Then he let out a frustrated groan.  
> He stopped moving, placing a firm hand on the small of James' back. "Time's up."  
> "Good."

Usually, when he wasn't playing guitar, James' brain never stopped nagging and pestering him. To his own surprise he found that it was now focused on the single goal to please Lars. He quickly chased that thought away, before it could disrupt the peacefulness that came with this unfamiliar simplicity.   
Too late, it seemed. Fore as soon as Lars none too gently tugged at his hair, pulling James' mouth off his cock, the blond asked himself what he'd done wrong.   
Judging from the lust that was clouding the green eyes, nothing much.

"Stand up and walk over to the couch," Lars ordered.

James obeyed, the first step resulting in a full-body shudder as the movement caused the toy inside him to stir. 

Unlike the old couch in James office, which more than once had simply swallowed him up after a long day at HQ, Lars' black leather couch was robust and unyielding. James remembered thinking it would have been more fitting for one of the record-label CEOs when it had been delivered a few weeks ago. The only worn thing about it was Lars' ratty robe lying balled-up on top of the back rest. It used to be navy, James recalled. But wear and countless spins in the washing machine had dulled the dark blue to an undefinable mousy grey. He'd seen the Dane wear it thousands of times, but he doubted he'd ever look at it the same way again after tonight.

"Stop," Lars breathed the word right into James' neck. Reaching around the taller man, he grabbed the robe and draped I over the arm rest. Then he reached for James' bound wrists and unfastened the belt. He smiled at the softly whimpered sound of protest, yanked his arms back and fastened the belt again behind James' back.

The shiver that caused didn't escape his notice. One hand on the belt, he used his other hand to shove James' upper body down onto the couch. James released a soft grunt at the rough treatment, but they both knew it was just a token protest.

It was an awkward position. Even with his legs spread wide, the armrest only came up to James' mid-thigh, much too low to offer any kind of support. It would have been easy to just use the backrest, but James assumed - correctly - that Lars wanted him to feel off-balance. 

The Dane released his hold on the belt, using both hands to grab James' hips and pulling his ass against his groin. James didn't resist, even though it made his position even more uncomfortable. Lars rubbed against him and the heat of his cock made James shiver and sweat at the same time. Slowly, Lars pushed him forward again, his hands on his hips steadying him, before grabbing his ass, kneading and stroking. 

"You know, I've always wanted to do this," he softly said. "All these years I've watched you on stage... spreading your legs in those skin-tight jeans... sometimes I thought you knew and wore them just to tease me."

It wasn't a question, so James didn't respond vocally, he just slightly shook his head. His breathing got heavier. 

"You wouldn't believe how often I got hard, watching you, how many times I messed up the timing because I couldn't stop staring at this hot ass of yours..." Lars slowly spread James' ass cheeks, running a thumb down his crack and giving the plug a small nudge. 

James breathed out a little moan. 

"Tell me," Lars whispered, "when you came to me tonight, was it because you wanted to fuck Kirk, or because you wanted to get fucked?"

James hesitated, trying to focus his thoughts enough to work out the mono-syllabic answer: "Both."

A slow grin spread on Lars' face. He lightly pressed his thumb against the plug, gaining the same reaction from James as before. Then he got hold of the toy and slowly pulled it a little way out, before pushing it back in. 

James buried his face in the soft fabric of Lars robe.

A little way out.

And back in.

Out.

In.

Repeat.

Lars watched in fascination as James' clenched and unclenched his fists in rhythm with the tiny movement. His breath now came out in little erratic gasps.

"Ready, pet?" Lars whispered. 

James nodded, which in turn caused Lars to shake his head. He reached out to grab a fistful of James' short hair again. "I didn't quite hear that," he hissed.

"Yes, sir, I'm ready," James breathed, even though he wasn't so sure at all. How could he be ready for something he never even thought about before tonight? He sure as hell was ready to try, though. 

Lars prided himself to be a good Dom, so despite his harsh tone he was as gentle as he could as he pulled the toy all the way out. 

James gasped, but otherwise showed no sign of discomfort.

Lars grabbed the lube and coated his cock generously. He grabbed James' hip with one hand, aligned his dick with the other and slowly pushed forward. 

As much as Lars wanted to feel that tight heat around his cock, he knew it would be too much for James if he just pushed in all the way. So he carefully pushed in for about an inch, waited till James breathed again, then pulled half an inch back. The pace was excruciatingly slow. They were both sweating as if they'd just finished a two-hour set on stage, but Lars refused to be rushed. Finally, accompanied by a slightly pained groan from James, Lars pushed the head of his cock past the tight barrier of muscles. 

"Shhhht, pet," Lars' own voice was shaky with lust. Not letting go of James' hip, he used his thumb to rub little circles into his sweaty skin. "You're so fucking hot like this... you _feel_ so fucking hot..." 

He pushed a little deeper this time, and James' groan got longer, but held no more sign of pain. On the next push in, James met his movement half-way and one endless second later, Lars pushed in all the way, relishing the moment when their bodies were finally fully joined, James' skin hot and moist against his own.

"You okay?" he panted.

"Fuck, yes! ... sir. God! I've never... never felt... anything..." James voice petered out, but his body seemed more than ready to communicate, pushing back against Lars and tightening in all the right places. 

"Fuck, Ja... pet... I'm going to fuck you so... fucking good!" Lars finally allowed himself to speed up his movements, his thrusts quickly getting faster and harder, and James met his every move.

Soon the sounds of their ragged breaths and their bodies colliding with each other, skin rubbing against skin filled the entire room. 

Lars' gaze fell onto the large clock that was mounted on the wall, right above the door. It had been a gift from the rest of the band, since he was infamous for being late on every possible and even impossible occasion. Not that it had made any difference. He needed a moment to realise the meaning of what he saw. Then he let out a frustrated groan.  
He stopped moving, placing a firm hand on the small of James' back. "Time's up."

"Good," James panted.

Lars wasn't able to keep the disappointment out of his voice. "Good?" 

Reluctantly he pulled back, but James' hips followed his move, preventing Lars' cock to fully slip out.

"Means I can kill you if you stop now," he growled.

Lars chuckled. He ran his hand through James' hair until he could grab a fistful, tilting his head back. "Talking out of line again, pet," he said cheerfully.

Again, his hand connected with James' skin in a loud smack, and the blond flinched, inhaling sharply.

"Sorry, sir," he breathed, letting his head fall into the softness of Lars' robe again as the Dane released his hold. 

An instant later his head snapped up again as Lars curled his hand around James' cock, stroking in time with his thrusts.

Lars bent over James' back, nipped at the nape of his neck.  
For a fleeting moment James wondered if he was allowed to speak now. But he wanted, no, he _needed_... "Please, sir..."

"Please what, pet?"

"Harder. Bite me harder. Mark me, Lars, make me yours."

Lars groaned at the sound of his own name. He didn't know if James realised he'd used it, and this time he didn't care James had spoken without permission, because _fuck..._ he never thought he'd hear those words.   
He sank his teeth in James shoulder.

"Getting close, pet?"

"Fuck, yes!"

With an evil grin, Lars tightened his grip on James' cock. "Not without my permission."

James hissed at the sudden sharp pain, but managed to bite back the curse that was about to escape.   
"Please," he moaned instead.

Lars was close himself, but he was determined to hold out a little longer.

"Please what, pet?" he panted again.

"Please, sir, may I come?"

"Not yet, pet."

"Please."

"Wait."

"Please!"

"Wait!"

It became a chant and James didn't care he sounded every bit as desperate as he felt. "Please, sir. Please, sir. Please!"

Lars grit his teeth and pushed as deep as he could, finally giving in. "Now, pet! Come for me now!"

James came hard, howling out his release like a wounded animal. He vaguely registered how Lars' fingers dug deeper into his hips as he, too, climaxed violently. It was all he could do to not drag his face across the puddle of his own come as his knees finally gave in and he slumped to the floor. Lars' spent cock slipped from his body, but Lars followed him on his way down, his cheek still glued to his shoulder by their combined sweat. 

For an endless moment there was nothing but their harsh breathing, thundering heartbeats slowly evening out again. 

"You need to thank me," Lars finally murmured against James' back.

"Huh?"

"That's how a scene ends properly. The sub thanks the Dom for letting him come."

James took as much time as he dared. "Thank you for letting me come... sir." He rolled his shoulders. "Can you untie my hands now?"

"Yeah, sorry." Lars hurried to unfasten the belt and gently rubbed James upper arms and shoulders, ghosting his thumb over the angry bite-mark.

James let out an appreciating hum before turning around. He looked at Lars. "Thank you, squirt." This time, he didn't specify what he was thanking him for. He didn't need to.

Lars grinned. "Any time, dickhead.

 

+++

 

"How was it?"

"Man, I wish I'd agreed to do this inside the club. Then I could show you the footage. You won't believe me now."

"That good, eh? Have you spoilt him for me now?" Kirk gave his voice a whining tone, that didn't quite cover up his grin. 

Lars laughed. "I hope not, but, seriously... I never thought he'd be this... willing. He took everything in stride, and then some."

"Hey, man! That almost sounds as if you've got a new favourite pet!" The pout in Kirk's voice now clearly dominated the grin.

Again, Lars chuckled. "You're not scared of the competition, now, are you?"

Kirk harrumphed through the phone. "Let's see what good a Dom he makes and then talk about competition again, shall we?"


	9. Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As much as James had enjoyed his time with Lars, and he had enjoyed it, his cock still twitched at the sheer memory, he wasn't sure it had sufficiently prepared him for his part as Kirk's Dom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay and the shortness of this chapter. RL got even more in the way than usual. The next chapter will be longer and full of smut, I promise!

James killed the engine but hesitated to get out of his car. This would be the first time he would see Lars again. And he wasn't sure he was ready for it. Not that he regretted what he'd done, what _they_ had done. But he wasn't sure if or how it would change things between them. He'd never noticed anything unusual going on between Lars and Kirk, so maybe it wouldn't change that much for Lars. But what about himself? Would he still be able to interact with Lars the same way as before? James heaved a deep sigh and ran his hands over his face.

He almost jumped out of his skin as suddenly the passenger door was opened, and Lars hopped into the car with a big, shit-eating grin on his face. "You're doing it again, James. Stop it."

"The fuck??? You almost killed me! And what does that mean? I'm doing what again?"

Lars transferred his ever-present chewing gum from one side of his mouth to the other, still grinning widely. "You're overthinking. Just relax, buddy. We had a good time, didn't we? And now we're going to get some work done, so swing your hot ass out of this vehicle and into the studio."

He winked at James, patted his knee and hopped out of the car again.

Again, James sighed and shook his head, but the corners of his mouth twitched with the beginning of a smile. Lars was right, damn the guy.

As much as James had enjoyed his time with Lars, and he had enjoyed it, his cock still twitched at the sheer memory, he wasn't sure it had sufficiently prepared him for his part as Kirk's Dom. 

In fact, he was convinced it had rather demonstrated how completely unprepared he was.   
Lars had played him like the expert he was, and he had years of experience on James. But then, that was something James could profit from. Lars wasn't anything if not generous with sharing things he knew or thought he knew or heard about.

Jason didn't think much of it when the James and Lars announced they had things to discuss. It wasn't unusual for them to burrow in in one of their offices and mull over every detail of every possible decision on art work or publicity or whatever for hours on end. Kirk exchanged a look with Lars the others didn't see, but he, too, just packed his things and called it a day.

"Ew, yuck!" James pointed at something on what he'd come to call Kirk's not-to-do-list. "People actually do that for fun?"

Lars looked over his shoulder and gave a half shrug. "You'd be amazed."

James arched a brow. "Amazed? _Freaked_ is the word you're looking for in this context, buddy."

He wasn't surprised Kirk's list was a lot shorter than his own. The first three items were the same, though. "No piss, no shit, no blood."   
James handed the list back. "Okay, now I know what he doesn't like. But what does he like? I guess I should know that, too."

"He likes to get roughed up a bit. An occasional slap in the face..." 

James looked up in surprise. They all knew what Kirk had had to endure in his youth. Lars shrugged. "Yeah, I know. But that's how it is."

James nodded. Maybe a psychologist would read something interesting out of that, but James didn't want to dig too deep.

"Okay. What else?"

"Breath control. But that is _not_ for beginners like yourself. Bondage, discipline and a certain amount of disgrace. He likes it when you come on him instead of inside him. Oh, and he certainly likes an audience."

"An audience, huh? So, you think he'll like to do this at the club?"

"Ah, first you'd have to become a member," Lars reminded James.

The singer grinned. "What, you think management won't approve of me?"

Lars narrowed his eyes at James. "It won't, if you get too cocky."

"Never had any complaints about my cock before."

Lars rolled his eyes and James held up his hands with a wide grin. "Alright, alright. If I apply today, I suppose it'll still take a few days before I can become an official member of the club, right?"

The Dane nodded. "You'll have to bring that health certificate, remember?"

"Yeah, I've already made an appointment. Uhm, can I buy stuff at your shop or is that members only, too?"

"It usually is, but I guess I can smuggle you in there," Lars grinned, "is there anything in particular you wanna buy or do you just want to look for inspiration?"

James winked at his friend. "I don't want to spoil the surprise."


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "First you make me wait, and now you're wasting my time. I hate it when people are wasting my time. It's such a sign of disrespect."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still fiction and fiction only. Still not making any money with it.  
> Sorry it took so long - again. I hope you enjoy. As always, feedback is very much appreciated.

For the second time within the last ten minutes, James realised he was bouncing his leg. It was funny, he mused, how the more you want to appear calm and composed, the antsier you get. He was always a bit nervous before a show, but never like this. But then again, he'd never had to - "perform" - live like this before, backstage sex with groupies notwithstanding. Still, it had been his own idea, and Lars had been all for it, little fucker that he was. "Kirk's gonna love it, and if it doesn't work for you, you can always take it to one of the private rooms." James snorted, since "private" still meant having Lars present and whoever was on duty in the CCTV-room watching. James licked at his dry lips and forced his feet to remain glued to the floor. 

"Hello, James," a dark, female voice purred behind him.

James' head whipped around, and he saw Emily, the hot blonde club manager he'd met on his first night. She smiled at him. 

"Hi, Emily," he couldn't keep his eyes from wandering. From her big blue eyes to her wide mouth, the long neck, the well-shaped bust, again enhanced by a tight-fitting leather corset, the ultra-short skirt and the sculptured legs in knee-high boots. Next to those boots knelt a handsome young man in his late-twenties. James arched a brow. "So you're not on duty tonight?"

Her smile widened. "No. And still I spend my free evening here, can you believe it? I was happy to see your application. Would you like to join me for a drink?"  
He'd never longed more for a drink to calm his nerves, but of course that was strictly off limits tonight. "Sorry. I'm waiting for someone."

Emily inclined her head and ran the tip of her tongue over her lips. "I'll see you around, then," she smiled and with a wave of just her fingertips, the young man jumped to his feet again and followed her to the bar, not without shooting James a curious look through lowered lashes. 

Finally, James saw two familiar figures coming down the spiral staircase. Well, at least one familiar figure. Lars looked like he'd just come out of a business meeting, wearing smart charcoal pants and a burgundy shirt. The sight of Kirk wearing nothing but a sort of leather harness and matching collar still was a bit unfamiliar.

James leaned back against the upholstery of one of the few armchairs scattered around the "dungeon" of the club, trying to give the impression, he'd been lounging the whole time, perfectly relaxed. 

Lars grinned at him as he came nearer and James managed not to flinch at the knowing look in the Dane's eyes. He was glad his friend didn't call his bluff, even though he was certain he'd seen right through it. Instead, Lars made a small gesture with his hand and Kirk instantly knelt at his side, in front of James. "All yours, tonight," Lars said softly and gave James a wink of encouragement.

James swallowed, gave a tiny nod in response and turned his attention to Kirk.  
The harness looked like something Paul Stanley might wear on stage. Thin, black leather strips adorned with D-rings in various places criss-crossing the smooth skin of his torso.

"You're late," James stated.

They'd never agreed on a specific time, but Kirk knew what was expected of him. He bowed his head even lower. "Sorry, sir," he said meekly.

James slowly shook his head, giving Kirk a look of deep disappointment. "That's not a good start, puppy," he admonished. 

"No, sir. I'm really sorry, sir."

James nodded and stood up, towering over Kirk's crouched form. "I believe you. But not nearly as sorry as you're soon going to be. Up!"

Kirk hastened to obey. James slipped two fingers underneath Kirk's collar and forced his chin up with his thumb, so that they were looking each other in the eye. "What's your first safe word?"

"It's Beetlejuice, sir." 

James averted his eyes for a moment and managed to not laugh out loud. But he couldn't quite hold back his grin. "Yeah, it would be, wouldn't it? What's the other one?"

"Boris Karloff, sir."

He was prepared this time, so James just nodded. With his fingers still hooked under Kirk's collar, he dragged him a few steps further, until they came to stand under one of the pulleys that hung from the ceiling. 

Of course, Kirk was familiar with the club's equipment. He looked up to the ceiling and for a split-second his eyes flickered towards Lars over James' shoulder.

James immediately tugged at his collars. "Watch it, pup," he growled, "I want you to concentrate."

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir," Kirk mumbled.

"Don't be sorry. Be attentive."

"Yes, sir."

James pulled one of the pulleys down, then reached for the carry-all, which gave several metallic clinks as he opened the zipper. From it, James first produced a pair of cuffs, which he laid on the floor in front of Kirk. He dug into the bag again, pulled out a metal chain, placed it next to the cuffs, reached into the bag again and with a heavy thud, finally produced a spreader bar. His hand still inside the bag, he looked at Kirk. "Now, do I have your undivided attention?"

Kirk swallowed, nodded. "Yes, sir," he whispered, wide-eyed. 

With a satisfied nod, James pulled an empty hand out of the bag. He dropped the bag, and on its landing, there was another clinking sound. Kirk briefly wondered, what else James had brought, but quickly focused on the blond again. Undivided attention. 

James' hand hovered over the items he'd put on the floor as if it was hard to decide what to use. Holding Kirk's gaze, he finally grabbed the cuffs.  
"Put your hands on your back," he instructed, his voice sounding much calmer than he felt. 

Kirk obeyed within a spilt-second, his eyes wide and dark and now unerringly fixed on James. James stepped behind him and fastened the cuffs around his wrists, ghosting his calloused fingertips up and down Kirk's arms. 

A shaky whimper escaped Kirk and the muscles in his arms twitched with the need for a stronger touch. 

James' lips stretched into a tiny smile as he was beginning to feel more confident in what he was doing. Running his fingertips over smooth skin, he stepped around Kirk in a full circle and crouched down to get hold of the spreader bar. "You know what this is for, don't you pup?" he asked gently.

Kirk nodded. "Yes, sir," he whispered. 

"Good."  
He tugged on Kirk's ankles until he could fit the bar between his feet and fastened the shackles.

Kirk watched as he fastened the first shackle and the trembling spread from his arms to his legs. He closed his eyes just as James looked up from his handiwork. 

"Eyes on me, pup!" 

Kirk's eyes flew open as his calve was pinched painfully. 

James gave a satisfied nod at Kirk's sharp gasp. "Better." He unfolded himself from his crouching position, picking the chain up at the same time.

Kirk didn't have the time to wonder about what would happen next as James secured one end of the chain with a snap hook to the D-ring of Kirk's collar, then bent down again, pulling on the chain and forcing Kirk's upper body into a 90 degrees angle. He looped the chain around the bar and fixed the other end with the same snap hook to the collar. 

Kirk let out a soft groan. The position made it almost impossible to move, putting him even more at James' mercy. He loved every second of it and it showed in the way his cock slowly started oozing.

He turned his head as much as the chain allowed to keep his eyes on James as directed as James took a step back and to the side, letting his eyes rake over Kirk's shivering body. He reached out a hand and traced the line of Kirk's back from his shoulder to his hip.  
"Almost..." he murmured as if talking to himself, sending another shiver of lust through Kirk's body. 

He picked up the bag and stepped out of Kirk's line of sight. 

Kirk inhaled sharply through his nose, anticipating the next step. He heard some more clinking, then cool metal was dragged along his spine. Another piece of chain, most likely. Kirk's assumption was confirmed as his cuffed hands were lifted and something clicked. 

He could hear the rattling of the chains as the pulley was pulled up again. Slowly, until Kirk's arms were forced to stretch and lift, pulling his shoulder blades together. He let out a little hiss, but James didn't stop. Slowly but steadily he shortened the chain, until Kirk was forced to lift his heels off the ground if he didn't want his arms to be pulled out of their sockets. 

Kirk exhaled audibly through his nose and that was the indication James had been waiting for. Immediately he stopped pulling and instead ran his fingertips along Kirk's flank again, stepping behind him. He grabbed Kirk's ass with both hands in a firm grip, pulling his cheeks apart and running his thumbs down his crack. He softly clicked his tongue, as the tips of both his thumbs easily slipped inside Kirk. "What a greedy little whore you are," James slipped his right hand free to give Kirk's ass a hard smack that made him gasp and shiver at the same time. He lowered his voice to a cold hiss. "Was that why you kept me waiting? Have you been screwing around?"

"No, sir! Please, sir, my Master demands it of me. To always be prepared when I come here," Kirk managed to stammer, as James still teased him with his other thumb. 

An amused smile flickered across James' face as he noticed the subtle difference. Lars was "Master", he was "sir".  
He gave his ass another smack for good measure, then stepped around Kirk again.

"Your Master trained you well, then?" James kept his voice low, but his tone was friendly again.

"I think so, sir. He's a very good Master."

James looked over his shoulder and sure enough there was Lars, grinning from ear to ear. There were also two or three other people, but James didn't want to let them distract him.

"Your Master tells me you're a talented little cock-sucker. Are you a good little cock-sucker?"

Kirk licked his lips. His eyes were wide and he had obvious difficulties to keep them fixed on James' face.

"Yes, sir, I think so, sir. Do you want me to prove it to you, sir?"

Kirk risked a peek as James' fingers nestled on the laces of his leather pants. They'd had sex in the same room heaps of times, they'd even fucked groupies side by side in the same hotel bed, so he more or less knew what he was about to see. Kirk licked his lips again in anticipation.

James smirked. He slowly unlaced his pants, dragging his fingertips over the outlines of his erection, giving Kirk ample opportunity to watch.

"This what you want?" James asked, slowly stroking his own cock.

"Oh, yes, sir," Kirk answered, managing to look bashful and wanton at the same time. 

"How much do you want it?"

Again, Kirk licked his lips, greedily watching James' fingers.

 

"So very much, sir."

James shook his head. "Not good enough. Show me how much you want it."

Kirk strained to reach James' cock with his mouth, to no avail. The chains clinked as he stretched his whole body even more in an attempt to bridge that last half an inch. He could feel the heat, but he couldn't quite make it.

James sadly shook his head again. "It's like you're not even trying," he said accusingly. "First you make me wait, and now you're wasting my time. I hate it when people are wasting my time. It's such a sign of disrespect."

 

The chains clinked again as Kirk stretched his whole body and then, like an afterthought, stuck out his tongue.  
Despite himself, James chuckled, then grabbed Kirk's curls and yanked his head back. "That's cheating," he growled, but didn't quite succeed in hiding his grin. 

He reached into the bag again, his eyes never leaving Kirk's, and produced a long, slim black rod, that looked a little like a stick lighter. 

Kirk narrowed his eyes, not sure what James was going to do.

"Cheating needs to be punished. Don't you agree, pup?"

Kirk closed his eyes for a moment and tried to keep his knees from trembling that much. 

"Oh God, yes, sir..."


End file.
